


all the edges of you

by redluxite (wordstruck)



Series: VLD One-Shots [30]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (Okay Maybe Some Plot), Admiral!Shiro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, BOM!Keith, Barebacking, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Epilogue What Epilogue, Jealousy, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Top Shiro (Voltron), fewfe, mild possessiveness, post-s8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18683302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstruck/pseuds/redluxite
Summary: Thirty-three days, gods, he’s missed Keith, everything about him – the lilt of his lips when he smiles; the constellations that hide in his eyes; the way all their edges seem to fall into place together, like this, just this, just them.(A quick Admiral!Shiro x BOM Leader!Keith mostly-PWP)





	all the edges of you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Paree-cat!! ❤︎ Sorry this is late, but I got it in time XD I hope you like this, and that a little sweet Sheith goodness makes you happy. 
> 
> Written mostly because Admiral!Shiro and BOM Leader!Keith having sex in Shiro's office = god tier content, thanks fandom for that trope, it's beautiful. Mostly unbeta'd; will be edited retrospectively. If limbs end up in weird places, let me know.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

 

When the Atlas receives the hailing signal, it’s not the one Shiro’s expecting.

He’s been anticipating a check-in from the Blades for a while now. It’s been almost five weeks since Keith had left their bed, heading off with his team for a relief mission to the Strathyan system. Shiro generally doesn’t consider himself clingy or needy by any measure, but thirty-three days is also a long time to be separated from his husband. It doesn’t help that communication has been sporadic; Stratestia is a long way from Terra, and it isn’t easy sending messages across that distance – never mind that the Blades are scarce with their dispatches to begin with.

Keith had said the mission would take about a month, give or take a few days, so Shiro’s spent the last few days with one eye out for an incoming transmission from the Ganymede, Keith’s ship. And on day thirty-three, Veronica finally calls out that the Atlas is receiving a hailing signal. With absolutely no shame, Shiro drops the file he’s meant to be reviewing so he can sign it, and circles the bridge to where Veronica stands at the comm screen.

Except – the signal isn’t from the Ganymede.

“Who’s that?” Shiro asks, brow furrowed.

Veronica taps out a few commands and opens a message attached to the signal. “They say they’re a diplomatic delegation from Rhohak. They’re here to speak with the Coalition.”

Shiro hesitates. It’s been a little over a year since the end of the war, since they had sacrificed Voltron to close the reality rift and Allura had sealed Haggar away in a hidden dimension. While they’ve taken great strides in eliminating the last of the Galra empire and rounding up its supporters, everyone has still been understandably wary. Of course, they’ve encountered more refugees than enemies, but Shiro has long learned – one can never be too careful.

He’s still debating answering the hailing signal when another message pops up on the comm screen.

 _Flyboy to command base,_ it reads.

Shiro reads the four words twice, then smiles.

“Pick it up,” he orders, already stepping back so he’s in view of the comms.

A video transmission opens. There’s a moment of static, then the screen settles into a slightly grainy video feed. Two aliens, presumably the Rhokhairi, appear, as well as one Terran – Keith.

“Greetings, ambassador,” Shiro quips, barely containing his grin. On screen, out of sight of the Rhokhairi, Keith rolls his eyes.

“This is Keith of the Blade of Marmora, hailing the Atlas,” he says, pointedly sticking to protocol. “I’m accompanying a delegation from the planet Rhohak to Terra. They’re here to treat with the Coalition.”

“Copied, ambassador.” Shiro can never quite resist teasing Keith about his assigned title. “And welcome to our guests. I’m sure the High Chancellor will be delighted to speak with you.” To his left, Veronica is already sending a dispatch to the High Seat of the Council, where someone will inform Allura of the new arrivals. Diplomacy is still the Coalition Council’s primary job, one that Allura shines in.

“Thank you, Atlas,” one of the Rhokhairi says. They have an odd voice, a sort of burble, as if they’re speaking half in water. Shiro inclines his head in a small bow in response. “We look forward to convening with the Altean Princess.”

Keith looks from the Rhokhairi back to the screen. “We came across their party out by Neptune. One of their ships had malfunctioned and lost power. I volunteered to go ahead with them as an escort, along with Matt. The Ganymede stayed back to help patch things up and tow them to Terra.”

“Noted. We’ll send a dispatch to Acxa to let her know she can tell us if they need anything.” Shiro turns his head slightly to one of the other bridge crew members, who nods in acknowledgment and opens a new transmission. He looks back at the screen with a grin. “The Atlas will have Hangar 3 open for you when you arrive.”

“ETA is a varga.” Keith nods a salute, but he has a small smile of his own, hidden in the corners of his eyes and a slight uptick of his mouth. “Keith out.”

The screen goes blank, but Shiro keeps staring a few moments longer, smile turned wistful. Then Veronica punches him in the arm.

“Back to work, _Admiral,_ ” she deadpans. Shiro rubs the spot she’d hit, giving her a wounded look. She stares back, unimpressed. Shiro scrunches up his expression, mock-pouting, but acquiesces and turns back to resume his work.

He’s already waited thirty-three days, after all. He can wait an hour more.

 

The Rhokhairi ship touches down a little while later, docking in Hangar 3 just as Shiro had said. He’s waiting in the bay alongside Hunk and Veronica as the semi-official welcoming committee; Allura is detained down on Terra with Council duties. She’d sent Hunk along as the official Terran emissary, alongside some of her Altean advisors. They all stand nearby as the Rhokhairi ship docks, flanked by two MFE jets that had flown out to meet it.

The two Rhokhairi from the transmission are the first out, accompanied by Matt. Shiro smiles politely as he greets them. He’s in the middle of introducing himself and his party when a familiar, well-loved laugh rings out and makes him look up.

He fixates first on Keith’s smile, wide and carefree, and much missed. Then he realizes, slowly, Keith is smiling because someone has lifted him into the air and spun him round before touching him to the floor and dipping him. There’s a third alien that hadn’t made an appearance on the transmission, and they’re standing with Keith now, one long blue finger tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

Shiro feels his shoulders go rigid. He’s rather lost track of whatever the other Rhokhairi are saying. The other alien straightens and offers their arm to Keith, who takes it with an exasperated and amused snort.

“Admiral Shirogane,” Matt says sharply, from his left. He steps on Shiro’s foot, breaking him out of his reverie. Shiro shakes his head and pulls up his best apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says smoothly, bowing slightly. “You were saying?”

“They were about to introduce their prince.” Matt shoots him a pointed look, but there’s a pinch to his mouth that Shiro knows – his friend is restraining a smile. “He’s the one leading the Rhokhairi delegation to Terra.”

“Indeed,” one of the other Rhokhairi – Qu’aili, they’d called themselves – chimes in. “Admiral Shirogane, Emissary Hunk, may we present Prince K’avi’thai’inya of the planet Rhohak.”

“Prince K’avi will do nicely, as Keith here has told me,” the Rhokhairi royalty says, waving a hand carelessly. His voice has noticeably less of a burble, and unlike his companions, who both wear masks criss-crossed from temple to cheek, Prince K’avi has his face bare. His features are sharp, and even Shiro would admit the prince is good-looking. The alien steps forward and holds out one four-fingered hand. “It is a pleasure to meet the leader of the Atlas. I’d heard you were impressively handsome, and I have to admit the rumors are absolutely right. I’d love to take you to dinner sometime. Still, I was rather hoping the Princess would meet us as well. Her beauty is quite infamous.”

“The High Chancellor is unfortunately detained,” Shiro answers as politely as he can manage, given how nonplussed he suddenly feels. “But she’ll be there to greet you when your delegation arrives at the High Seat on Terra.”

“I look forward to it,” Prince K’avi says, grinning roguishly. Then he turns to Keith and takes the Terran’s hand, lifting it to his lips for a light kiss. “Ambassador, it has been an honor.”

“The pleasure has been mine,” Keith replies, with unrestrained amusement. He makes no effort to withdraw his hand, not even when the prince straightens and kisses his cheek next, pulling back with a cheeky wink. Thankfully, Veronica and Hunk decide to take the situation in their own hands. The Atlas’ second-in-command cuts in to lead the whole delegation away to the transports that will take them down to Terra. And Shiro watches in confusion as Prince K’avi catches sight of Veronica and smirks, then immediately steps forward to offer his arm and begin asking her all about their planet.

He’s still staring as the Rhokhairi leave when someone behind him snorts, then two peals of laughter ring out. Shiro turns to find Keith and Matt nearly doubled over as they crack up. Off to the side, Rizavi is snickering, and even Kinkade looks amused.

“Wow, Shiro,” Matt gasps, when he’s caught his breath enough to speak. “I didn’t think you’d react _that_ badly.”

“Are you kidding?” Rizavi says, as she walks away from her jet, Kinkade behind her. “I knew from the moment we flagged their ship and that prince answered with an arm around Keith’s shoulders.”

“Prince K’avi was just being… friendly,” Keith corrects, but he’s struggling to keep a straight face.

“An unrepentant and incorrigible flirt, you mean.” Matt snorts another laugh and wipes at his eyes. “Thank god you’re pretty enough to distract him or he would’ve made a pass at even me.”

“He liked Kinkade pretty well, though,” Rizavi adds, shooting her fellow pilot a sly look. Kinkade just shrugs, but there’s a smile tucked away in his expression too.

Shiro stares at all of them, absolutely lost and bewildered, and a little stung. “Am I missing something?”

Both Keith and Rizavi snort a laugh at that, and even Kinkade is suppressing a chuckle. Matt claps Shiro on the arm with absolutely no sympathy. “The prince is a flirt,” he finally explains. “It’s like – their thing, apparently, on their planet. The highborn are excessively friendly with everyone, doesn’t matter the gender or species. It’s their brand of diplomacy. He’s probably coming on to Veronica right now, although if you make it clear you’re uncomfortable he backs off.”

“I thought Acxa was going to stab him,” Keith admits, and it sets Matt off again. Keith shakes his head, and turns to Shiro, winding an arm through his and leaning his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Takashi,” he adds, voice warm and amused. “It’s harmless and it doesn’t mean anything, really. Besides, it was fun.”

“And your _face_ ,” Matt adds, wheezing. Shiro elbows his friend in the head with his free arm, but Matt just bats him away with another laugh.

“All right, all right, we’ll let you two get _reunited_ ,” he says cheekily. “Do I need to put out another APB that the _Admiral_ shouldn’t be disturbed in his office for like, five hours again, or will you guys have the decency to make it to your roo—”

He dodges as Shiro tries to elbow him again, although Shiro’s quickly growing amused as well. It’s also difficult to stay annoyed when Keith presses against his side, arm around his waist, thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles through his uniform. He’s reminded again of how long it’s been since he’d last seen Keith, much less touched him. And Keith seems to feel the same, since his hand starts moving with more intent, dipping a little lower down Shiro’s back. Shiro loops an arm around Keith’s shoulders and squeezes lightly, a small reminder for Keith to _behave._

“Veronica has command of the bridge once she returns from escorting our guests to Terra,” he announces, trying not to sound too self-satisfied. “In the meantime, I’ll be in a meeting with the Ambassador so he can debrief me on the latest mission.”

“Oh I’m sure there’ll be plenty of _de-briefing_ —”

Matt is saved from a third attempt at injury as Rizavi claps a hand around his mouth and drags him away, throwing Shiro a wink over their friend’s head. Kinkade flicks a lazy salute, then nods at Keith before following after them. Shiro sighs and watches his officers go, and wonders about everything that’s just happened.

“So,” says a sly voice beside him. Shiro turns to find Keith looking at him, eyebrow raised, expression coy. “ _Debriefing,_ huh.”

“Isn’t that standard protocol, Ambassador?” Shiro points out, blinking wide eyes, like butter wouldn’t melt. Keith rolls his eyes, and Shiro grins. “The Ganymede had a long mission. I’m sure you’ve got _plenty_ to tell me.”

“I do, actually, since Prince K’avi is _such_ an interesting cha—”

Any further sass from Keith is lost as Shiro catches his words and his laugh in a kiss. It starts out teasing and sweet, until Shiro gets his hands in Keith’s loose braid and it starts to unravel under his fingers as he tugs. Keith kisses back harder in response, making a soft, plaintive noise that reminds Shiro they’re still in the middle of a hangar where anyone can see them. He breaks the kiss reluctantly, although he stays close to his husband.

“Perhaps we should continue this in my office,” he murmurs, low and heated. Careful fingers brush Keith’s hair back, and the petty side of Shiro is rather satisfied he’s made a mess of the braid, Prince K’avi’s gesture still at the back of his mind.

“Lead the way, _Admiral,_ ” Keith replies with a smirk. Shiro takes his hands and tugs him forward – although not without stealing another kiss, first.

 

Shiro’s office is located in a rather secluded section of the command bay, and good thing, too. His hands are all over Keith from the moment the lock clicks shut behind them; his mouth hot on Keith’s, crowding him. Shiro doesn’t consider himself clingy, but thirty-three days is a long time to go without this: Keith pliant in his arms, arched against him, hands smoothing over the planes of Shiro’s chest. Shiro backs them up until Keith is pinned between him and the desk. His hand slides down, slipping under the half-skirt of Keith’s uniform to cup first the curve of his thigh, then his ass.

“Someone’s eager,” Keith notes quietly, smirking. Shiro just growls and tightens his grip, tugging Keith against him.

“You have been gone entirely too long,” he mutters, ducking down to litter soft bites down the other man’s throat, “and then you show up in the arms of that _prince,_ and then you let him kiss you—”

“On the cheek. He was just being friendly,” Keith answers, amused, even as he tips his head back to give Shiro better access. Shiro makes a disparaging noise under his breath. Instead of responding, he reaches back and unsnaps the shoulder covers of Keith’s uniform, letting the stiff, heavy fabric drop to the floor. The half-skirt follows. Keith gives another quiet laugh as he helps remove his own weapons, both of them a little clumsy in their haste, mouths unwilling to part. But finally, Shiro has Keith in just the skintight suit, his wide palms smoothing over the lines and curves of Keith’s body.

“Missed you,” he breathes out, hot against Keith’s throat, and the other man shivers.

“I’m here now,” Keith answers softly. His hands go to Shiro’s hair and tug him over for another kiss. Keith bites at his lower lip, then gasps as Shiro grinds his hips, rocking their still-clothed cocks together.

“Too many _clothes,_ ” Shiro groans, his uniform suddenly too constricting in the growing warmth of his office, the prospect of Keith with his skin bare, laid out for Shiro to touch. But he refuses to break the kiss, too, so their hands fumble over fabric – first Keith gets Shiro’s jacket unbuttoned and shoved down his shoulders, then Shiro gets the zip of Keith’s suit half-undone. He hauls Keith off the desk long enough to shove the whole thing off, and then—

Shiro’s eyes flick back up at Keith’s, smug and amused. Keith just grins, unrepentant, as he steps out of the fabric puddling at his feet and leans up for another kiss.

“These suits are more comfortable _without_ underwear, I’ll have you know,” he mutters against Shiro’s lips, and then tugs Shiro’s undershirt up over his head.

They back up again, until Keith’s seated on Shiro’s desk, all inches of him sprawled on the woodwork, all the lines of him that Shiro wants to trace with fingers, lips, tongue. He gives into the urge, running his mouth over Keith’s shoulder, then down to his chest, leaving small bites as he goes. Keith arches into the touches, leaning all his weight on one hand so the other one can reach back, fumbling with Shiro’s top drawer until he can find the handy bottle of lube tucked away there. Then Shiro drags him forward, fingers undoing the last of Keith’s braid so his hair falls in loose waves down his shoulders, mouth latching just under Keith’s jaw to taste his pulse.

“Shiro—” Keith breaks off with a gasp, hips jerking. “Teasing later – come _on_ —”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Shiro murmurs over his jaw, reaching out to take the lube. He slicks up his fingers, using his Altean hand to tug Keith to the edge of the desk so he can trace lightly down between Keith’s legs up to his hole. He lingers a little, drawing faint circles around the rim, until Keith squirms under him and bites his neck in retaliation. Shiro grins through the hitch in his breath, pressing a finger in, pushing and working at Keith until he’s open enough to take two – then three – then—

“ _Shiro,_ ” Keith moans quietly, hooking a knee around Shiro’s hip and clenching around the fingers in his ass. “ _Fuck me,_ come _on,_ I want it, want _you_ —”

The slow, sweet slide of his cock inside Keith never ceases to overwhelm Shiro, no matter how many times they fuck. He holds Keith open, sinking in until his hips are flush to Keith’s thighs. _Thirty-three days,_ gods, he’s missed Keith, everything about him – the lilt of his lips when he smiles; the constellations that hide in his eyes; the way all their edges seem to fall into place together, like this, just this, just them.

“So good,” he breathes out into the space between them, hushed, all fractured exhales and the brush of mouths. “So good, kitten, you take me so well, _fuck._ ”

Keith answers by bracing himself on the table top and crushing their mouths together, rolling his hips as best as he’s able when Shiro has him pinned down. His other arm winds around Shiro’s neck, keeping them close as Shiro fucks into him, over and over. His thrusts are clumsy, lack his usual finesse, but neither of them care; they’ve been a month apart and every time they are reunited is a gift. The kiss is broken now, their mouths parted, panting against each other as Shiro snaps his hips forward and Keith clenches around his cock.

“Gonna fill me up?” Keith asks, breathless, and Shiro grits his teeth to stifle a too-loud moan. Keith grins, merciless, beautiful. “Come on, Shiro, come inside me, mark me, I want it leaking out of me, I wanna _feel_ it—”

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro pleads, fractured, hands digging into the taut skin of Keith’s thigh hard enough to bruise. His hips stutter once, twice, and then he hauls Keith tight against him as he climaxes, burying the sound he makes in Keith’s shoulder. He’s barely gotten through the shock of it when he feels Keith shudder against him, going tight as he comes, slicking up his own fist.

They linger like that for a while, in each other’s spaces, touching everywhere they can reach with shaking fingers. Shiro runs his thumb over a new scar, short and thin across Keith’s ribs. He’ll get Keith to tell him about it later, when they debrief properly; for now, he tilts his head round to kiss Keith again, slow and deep, relishing how Keith is _here_ again, in his arms, home.

“Missed you,” he says again, quietly, cupping Keith’s jaw and leaning their foreheads together.

Keith smiles at him, soft, and closes his eyes. “I’m here now.”

Shiro knows him well enough to know he’s also saying _I’ll always come back._

He pulls away reluctantly, although his hand doesn’t leave Keith’s face. “Come on,” he says, mouth quirking. “We should get decent, and then we should report to Allura. We’ll also need to talk to the Rhokhairi and induct them into the Coalition, and then—”

He’s cut off by a kiss, too short since Keith breaks into a small laugh almost immediately. “Trust you to be all business again,” he chides, but his expression is exasperated and fond. “All right, _Admiral,_ we’ll run through protocol. Help me back into my suit.”

Shiro chuckles in response, pressing his lips quickly to Keith’s hair. “Don’t worry,” he quips, leaning back with a mischievous expression. “I’ll make sure to thoroughly _debrief_ you again later, nice and long and _hard_ —”

He breaks off with a _whoof_ as Keith elbows him in the ribs, rolling his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just _debrief_ Prince K’avi instead—”

Shiro kisses him again to shut him up, then helps Keith off the desk. “Really, though,” Shiro says, grinning, “I expect to continue our _meeting_ again later, and I’ll be sure to be much more… thorough.”

Keith shakes his head, but he smirks. “I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come say hi on social media – I'm on Twitter as [@redluxite](https://twitter.com/redluxite); NSFW account is [@keithy_cat](https://twitter.com/keithy_cat). You can check there for ways to support my writing, and for updates/WIPs/etc ^__^


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